MONTREAL - I’ve been revisiting many of Montreal’s shall-we-say “vintage” restaurants of late. I don’t like the word “institution” when it comes to restaurants, but this week’s restaurant definitely falls into the Montreal Institution category. Opened 40 years ago by Pierre Lévêque and now run with his wife, Patricia, and daughter Olivia, Chez Lévêque is one of the original Montreal bistros well known for its bustling ambience, fabulous promotional posters and sense of fun. The food has never been the strength of this establishment and, considering it is located on one of the best restaurant streets in the city, I cannot deny I’m surprised to see it crowded every time I walk by. I’m always asking myself why, and I think I might finally have figured out why.

Last December, on Christmas Eve no less, I was in the neighbourhood and had an hour to kill (don’t ask, long story). No surprise, every one of my usual Outremont haunts was closed, yet when I drove past Chez Lévêque, the lights were twinkling and, through the tall front windows, I could see customers sucking back oysters. Aha!

So in I went, and made a beeline for the bar where I ordered a glass of Chablis and a half dozen of those enticing oysters. The restaurant was quite full of I’d guess forty- and fifty-something patrons, smartly dressed, bilingual, and so happy that the room looked like a wall-to-wall smile fest. The lights were quite low and the whole ambience was just so suave français that I considered having my Christmas Eve supper here alongside this cheery crowd.

Ambience is something I never take for granted in a restaurant, and having enjoyed the one at Chez Lévêque so thoroughly, I made a note to return in warm weather when the street-facing windows are flung open and the rosé begins to flow.

So there I was again in this bustling bistro on a recent Tuesday night, sitting in a banquette with two friends, chatting with the friendly waitresses, reading the specials on the blackboard, and deciding whether to opt for a dish from the “Grand Classiques” section of the menu, the table d’hôte, the lighter fare including salads and sandwiches. There’s an extensive selection here, and if you dine after nine, you can also opt for the $21 menu that includes a starter, main course and dessert. The wine list also offers a wide selection of primarily French bottles sold at fair prices. After debating whether we should go for the snails or lobster bisque (the snails won out), we made our selections, ordered a couple glasses of Chablis to begin, and sat there hungrily in this great banquette enjoying the views of the bar, the crowd, and the bowls of onion soup whizzing by.

But then, an off note. The waitress arrived with our two glasses of wine, holding each close to the rim of the glass. Not to sound too picky, but wine glasses should be transported by the stem to avoid the inevitable finger-mark-laden bowl. Worse yet, though, was the fact that she didn’t pour the wine at the table or show us the label of the wine being served. Montreal has become a sophisticated wine city, where this sort of thing just shouldn’t happen. Whenever I’m served a glass of wine without seeing the bottle, I always suspect I’m not getting what I ordered.

As for the food we did order, there were highs and lows. The snail dish was a winner. Served in a phyllo shell, the snails were mixed with sautéed mushrooms in a cream and white wine sauce. That may sound boring, but it was actually quite nice. I like a good snail nosh from time to time, and these ones were nice and garlicky and not too rubbery.

I also quite enjoyed a starter featuring coconut shrimp served with an unctuous dipping sauce that didn’t taste of much, yet was acidic enough to cut through the richness of the deep-fried crustaceans. The starter that didn’t score was the grilled vegetable plate included in the table d’hôte. Served with tiny cubes of cheese, the vegetables had little flavour, and were quite greasy. But what got me most here was the inclusion of green pepper strips. To me green peppers are about as appropriate in a good restaurant as plastic cutlery. Ugh.

The pepper order from the Chez Lévêque kitchen must be pretty hefty, for there were sautéed strips of red pepper on every main course plate. The first plate counted a succulent rabbit leg served with mustard sauce, mashed potatoes and sautéed vegetables including those ubiquitous peppers. As much as I loved the moist rabbit meat with its gentle mustard sauce, the potatoes were insipid and the vegetables added nothing.

Served with those very same accompaniments, a thin slab of calf’s liver was pink, tender and had none of that metallic livery flavour that sadly turns so many off this excellent offal. But the promised raspberry vinegar flavouring was completely undetectable.

The final main, duck confit – a dish any bistro should really do well – was a letdown. Served with scalloped potatoes with a strong rosemary taste, the duck confit lacked the requisite crispy skin, and the flesh, that in a confit must be melting, was dry and stringy. Back to the drawing board with that one.

Feeling a bit low after such mediocre fare, I was happy the desserts scored. First came an elegant floating island, with the meringue piped into a cone shape and sprinkled with toasted almonds, the whole floating in a pool of perfect crème anglaise. I’ve tasted a lot of floating islands in my day, and this was easily one of the best. I also loved their lemon tart, a generous slice of pie with a dense meringue and a thick layer of lovely lemon cream. Yum! Only the chocolate and passion fruit verrine failed to impress, not because it wasn’t good (the taste was lovely) but because the blue-tinged, stale-tasting cream on top and half-melted blue Easter egg led me to believe this was a leftover dessert from the past weekend’s Easter brunch.

As much as I enjoyed the scene and friendly service at Chez Lévêque, the food fell short of what I expected. This establishment has the feel of a chain restaurant, where the emphasis is more on filling the plate with food, than filling the plate with fantastic food. And yet, here I am nibbling away, wishing it were more of a bistro de luxe, I actually get the sense that this restaurant is not trying to be anything more than a bistro.

Looking around me, I got the sense that this is truly a neighbourhood watering hole where you could go to eat well and have a few laughs instead of toiling over a stove at home after a long day’s work. Hardly as pretentious as many of Laurier Ave.’s other high end restaurants, Chez Lévêque shows us how the word restaurant is all about “restaurer” or restoring. For some people that’s enough, good as gold.

And I totally get it.

Comments

We encourage all readers to share their views on our articles and blog posts. We are committed to maintaining a lively but civil forum for discussion, so we ask you to avoid personal attacks, and please keep your comments relevant and respectful. If you encounter a comment that is abusive, click the "X" in the upper right corner of the comment box to report spam or abuse. We are using Facebook commenting. Visit our FAQ page for more information.

Almost Done!

Postmedia wants to improve your reading experience as well as share the best deals and promotions from our advertisers with you. The information below will be used to optimize the content and make ads across the network more relevant to you. You can always change the information you share with us by editing your profile.

By clicking "Create Account", I hearby grant permission to Postmedia to use my account information to create my account.

I also accept and agree to be bound by Postmedia's Terms and Conditions with respect to my use of the Site and I have read and understand Postmedia's Privacy Statement. I consent to the collection, use, maintenance, and disclosure of my information in accordance with the Postmedia's Privacy Policy.

Postmedia wants to improve your reading experience as well as share the best deals and promotions from our advertisers with you. The information below will be used to optimize the content and make ads across the network more relevant to you. You can always change the information you share with us by editing your profile.

By clicking "Create Account", I hearby grant permission to Postmedia to use my account information to create my account.

I also accept and agree to be bound by Postmedia's Terms and Conditions with respect to my use of the Site and I have read and understand Postmedia's Privacy Statement. I consent to the collection, use, maintenance, and disclosure of my information in accordance with the Postmedia's Privacy Policy.